#i know you meant this as a silly bit LMAO sorry for the mini tag ramble. i just one of their most powerful elements is their stupidity

[hourcat]

charles is still mad that pierre went and posted about going to the coldplay concert with his girlfriend instead of him. he was like, "why am EYE the side piece, break up with her or I will start sleeping with max."

bestie, love and light, but charles would sooner threaten to step foot into the next oceangate research vessel than threaten to sleep w max

[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and Melting Walls (6/8) “Queer Voices”

Summary: Remy has a lazy day after his hard and long day at work. Virgil is very glad to be with him and comment on his shenanigans as much as a cat can.

Tags: human = slave for a cat, mentions of pets eating humans, mentions of cat scratches, Remy going worst case scenario of “lmao cat might kill me”, mentions of blood, wtf remy seriously, criticising the world, hating on rich people, fuck reality tv, remy has weird thoughts, migraines, chronic pain gang, medication-induced dummy thoughts, questioning the world, microphones, singing, weird echo distortion, auditive triggers (described), eating, silly dummy, soft cat shenanigans, remy is a soft owner

 I do not think there is any to be applied. If you need me to add anything, please contact me here or on my tumblr (spacegayparty, spacegaywritings)

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 (you are here) / 7 / 8.

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Remy flopped his body back down onto the couch. He had just about left his bed and done the most essential actions to start a day.

 “Virgilius kitty catticus”, he called lowly, laying flat on the couch.

 His legs were sprawled out like the seductive lover in a peculiar pose... or any liquid simply taking up as much space as they could. Yeah, he classified to be the latter, if any. This was to put it nicely. He did not look loving or seductive at all. His body was about as tempting as a greased bucket of expired fat for frying fries. For a more trained eye, he might have resembles a starfish with his limbs facing away from him and stretching wide and far into the world as if to get as much exposure to air and light as possible. Maybe he was some kind of starfish-lover-grease-plant.

 Yes, he was a really super special plant and he shall live like this!

Immobile, comfortable, unfit for work and cared for by nature only. Not to speak of how he refused to care for anything and anyone either.

Didn’t everyone aspire to be a nice house plant? Like a house cat! Now he and Virgil could be more than friends - bestest friends... perhaps even bitches in crime.

 They would absolutely trash the household by demanding a lot of care and just throwing out some dirt. If he was a plant with mobile or flexible limbs under his control, he could knock things from counters like the void did. Remy definitely learned how much cats seemed to enjoy playing into gravity’s power. Virgil was a never-ending source of knocking random things off the counter, off the shelves and tables and whatever else they could find.

 “Virgiiiiiil~”

 Remy had accepted his fate: he was hosting a little demon kitten, a spoiled mini Queen expecting royal treatment when he was just a humble worker who bitched at idiotic people.

Why, oh why-

As he laid there, drama overcoming him, existential dread rumbled in his guts. The hunger from going without sustenance for a whole night consumed his being, Virgil finally made their way over to them and decided to give him a lovely greeting. His migraine-ridden head was met with the sudden impact of a whole furry kitty skull just crashing against it.

 Instantly, pain exploded in his mind, his brain pressing against his skull from the inside and pounding wildly. Throbbing agony painted his features and he groaned, his face distorting to present the mask of a broken man, hopeless for any improvement. It was not that the area Virgil had bonked their head against was hurting more. No, it was like touching a bubble and destroying the whole of it in the process.

 “Ughh...”

 His voice was tired and, his brows heavy and lethargic from the constant anguish pushing him into the ground. At the same time, his head felt detached from reality. It was an unreal experience.

The pain was present, persistent and heavy on him as it crushed his appetite. While his body demanded food, it also demanded him to stay off any intake of nutritions via mouth. Nausea washed over him and he felt warm , uncomfortably hot even. Sweat seemed to break over his miserable, physical vessel and he pressed his lips together in regret, not even daring to think about opening it. He felt feverish but knew he was not. He had tested it several times.

 He had to stop thinking.

Thinking hurt.

 “ d’s hur’s...”, he mumbled incoherently.

 Neither his head nor his lips wanted to do the talking at the moment. Sounds hurt, too.

 The man wanted to tell the little bitchy kitten that head bonks - while affectionate - were painful when he had bad migraines. He wanted to explain himself to the little creature who would just meet his torture with the inability to understand him. Even if the kitty tried, they would be unable to ever understand his words as he meant them. Virgil learned by context.

 Realising the kitten got no head pats in return or any other sorts of physical affection, the little void pawed at his face and gently nudged their head against Remy’s once more.

It was gentle, this time.

 “Mrow!”, the cat argued.

 Remy wanted to shake his head but feared the nausea would become even worse. The little soft nudge was.. endearing. The tender displays of affection did not heal him but it helped, it eased him. It was nice to know the kitten did not understand but still reacted to him, still cared and was there at once when he decided to call for them.

 Remy was brave enough to swallow his nausea. He shifted experimentally.

 Huh.. fine. It was kinda fine, right now.

 The nausea was just out of reach and he took the chance to quickly shift to his side and turn his whole body over. Remy gently patted the couch and patiently waited for the little kitten to follow him. His face was in the same space, just facing the other side.

 He was unusually off-fashion. His boxers were basically all his pyjamas, his shirt was a loose shirt from the women’s section. It was barely gracing over his features, loosely falling onto his skin.

Listen, he looked especially pretty with his hips showing a bit.

 “Huhww...”, he whined in pain.

 HIs eyes shut automatically. It was good that eyes had the reactive mechanism of closing when light hurt too much. With the little bits of light that intruded home shut out , he curled further around the kitten. Virgil gently nudged his chin and stretched into his arms. Pushing the little head into his palm, they received little head scritches once more and he gently caressed the kitten’s small chin.

 His pain killers should kick in soon. He was so glad that special medication for migraines existed... if he was lucky, they would just knock him out and he would wake up in a bit, lacking pain and nausea at all and feeling so much better. One day, he wanted to feel like a person would feel when waking up in the morning: free, fresh and ready to seize the day.

 Remy soon drifted off to sleep. The comforting feeling of his Queen of Salt tapping his hip bones was one of the most assuring actions one had ever performed on him. They curled up in his arms, right next to him. In solidarity to one another, the two eventually drifted into a respectful and hopefully healing nap.

 A few hours passed and magically, Remy woke up. His body was heavy and his energy levels ran low. Instinctively, he rolled onto his side and rubbed his eyes.

 The process was.. not just as smooth.

As he started to roll over, a little resistance could be felt next to him and he felt the intense heat on his chest suddenly be exposed to the much cooler air around him.

 Remy’s head was still heavy when he turned and he could feel his mind draw a painfully sneaking blank. Thinking was a drop-by-drop process compared to quickly pouring liquid from one into another container. But when he blinked, looking around and not seeing the familiar Overlord of Darkness, he knew there was a problem.

 Oh- Oh, Virgil.

  “aw.. sorry Virg”, he mumbled.

 St once, he moved off the squeaking kitty and sighed. Holy fuckery, he was more than glad he had not tried to roll over the kitten. This could have ended in the worst possible ways. Surprised at himself, he blinked.The kitten complained and nastily pushed their tail into his face in revenge. Yeah, the one and only Queen of Salt was right then and there. If they acted like this, they were obviously all up and healthy.

 Oh, and would you look at this. His nausea was almost entirely gone. The rest persisting in his throat and stomach was probably the greedy claw of hunger.

 Cat + pain-free state = happy Remy.

 “Aw, kitty”, Remy cooed and gently pulled the crabby bean into his arms, cradling them close.

 Virgil meowed in protest but it was a formality rather than a wish. When Remy got up, they decided to stay put and curl up against his chest once more, the inviting warmth winning over even the the charcoal grumpy cat. If they had been truly enraged about him squeezing them by accident, they would have given Remy an actual taste of pain.

 “Meow”, they mumbled in return and Remy kissed their head.

 “Yeah, sorry for the wait. You and I are getting food right now”

 He carefully got up, minding his step and circulation as he made his way into the kitchen with calculated movements. Whenever he got a bit further, he identified the next space he could lean against or a corner he could slide down from. Just in case his body was “too weak” and prissy with him to make it over to the kitchen and stay loyal to him while making a meal.

 Remy should get a walking stick.

 Eventually, he got over, took his supplements to further ward off migraines, dizzy spells and many other issues his existence was pained with. Cramps and muscle twitches. Those were those bitches!

 Virgil was down at his feet, not daring to wander the counters when he would cook. They knew better than to do so. The kitchen was basically off-limits for feral cat shenanigans of jumping and dumping anything they would find interest in.

 Within a few minutes, Remy and Virgil were snuggled up on the couch, lazy breakfast in his hands and kitten sprawled over his leg, nibbling at a little snack he had gifted them.. well, as a treat. Also, the cat just needed to eat, okay? The cat was contently purring on his leg, basically massaging it with the stubborn vibrations radiating off of them. They were happily chewing on a bit of meat Remy had placed on a napkin for them. He himself was stretched out under a thin yet fluffy blanket, as black as his soul. With that, he meant that it was a dark, shimmery blue that looked almost as dark as raven yet shone like charcoal and reflected the light blue-ly enough for him to call it blue. Every now and then, it would look like a cave of darkness when from other angles, it would look like a mysterious shade of blue.

A bit like the vast universe.

 The official cat owner pushed his eggs aside with his fork and let said cutlery rest abandoned on his plate as he finally gave up on eating. This whole breakfast thing might not have been exactly his type of life.

Eating at 11 am was... illegal. Too early. A true abomination. Who would do anything like this? What kinda fucking bitch even invented this sort of activity? This was torture, not a fucking luxury!

 Mornings were there to either work or sleep forever.

 Remy groaned.

 Virgil seemed to have passed out on his left thigh, a whole bundle of raven fur curled up next to him and halfway covering up his own body - even warming it. This cat was probably the only person he ever wanted to see in the morning. Or even interact with.

 Yeah, fuck everyone and everything else. It was “No social, only Virgil” - his new life motto.

 Seriously, now. This little monster was probably the only creature allowed to breathe around him during mornings. He detested mornings but during migraine days, he could not bear to be existent - oh, this was another level of hatred he bore in his angy heart.

 Mornings were the worst because he had to take medication, sleep away half the day and then still be in at least a bit of pain. Yet the idea of Virgil lazily purring on him without annoying him, without demanding attention or needing anything? Now this was true luxury if he ever knew any! Being himself was already a luxury and he paid a lot for it with sweat, pain and an angelic patience to never spill scalding hot coffee over other people when they dared to annoy him during his most painful episodes.

 Remy pushed his food away, plate immediately deserted on the other side of the couch. If he dared to as much as move a bit more to the front, he would have to lean in closer and move his upper body. This was too much work. Cancelled.

With Virgil cuddled up on his thigh, head literally resting close to his hip, he would quite frankly crush the little kitten or trap them at the very least. He did not want to disturb or even hurt the little void. Come to think of it, he could not stand the thought of it even in the slightest. The little beast getting hurt was also illegal. This was his favourite bitch and he would not just let them get hurt. Under no circumstances, especially if he could prevent it by any means.

 His body curled around the little blob of black as if they were about to get hurt and only their close physical contact was able to save them both from tremendous trouble. Remy shielded the little spark of joy in his life.

However, the kitten was about as sympathetic as always and grumbled in response.

 “Meow!”

 Virgil looked at him. Remy blinked back, dace unmoving.

 “Shut up, I am loving you right this fuck.. the.-...the f u ck now.”

 He cleared his throat and, again, blinked back at the Queen of Salt who slowly blinked at him. They pushed Remy’s annoying appendages away and nudged themself into a more comfortable position within their owner’s arms. Once completely satisfied, the cat continued purring like the motor they were.

 “There you go, sassy snitch.”

 The tired man commented, a small chuckle erupting from his throat. A warmth started spreading in his chest again, filling him from the inside. Virgil fuelled themself with their persistent purrs in order to produce more and more heat and vibrations.

This was a circle of heaven.

On one hand, it was a bit like rich people going to these fancy salons so they would look a bit less shit and also much more artificial. Somehow it was a big fucking trend for some fashion victims to look the least human possible and resemble plastic more than anything else. That or maybe some horror creatures.

Remy had no more than cynical eyebrow raises left when he saw shows coming up that presented these people like on a plate of food. Dehumanising, really. Society made people hate themselves for being people and looking like fucking people. As if anything about mean, horrifying mask faces were anything people wanted to see or talk about. The viewers were probably all thirsting after a big old cup of tea because they would definitely not get a tall glass of water in these trying times of reality TV or whatever this bitchy excuse of bullshit was called.

 “Meow.”

 “Yes, Virgil, Totally think so, too.”

 This, this was it. Those interactions were all he needed to make him feel... complete. He felt.. rich but in the more sensible and less extremely insane way. He was not materially watch. Ha, suck it “Material Girl”. No, he was emotionally enriched by Virgil’s presence. It was another kind of fancy and luxurious since it pleased his soul rather than his need to be loved by others. He was blessed and warmed with the love and closeness of a little creature that enjoyed him being around.

Somewhat at least.

 “I love you, little kitty cat. You are the right kinda bitch.”

 Okay, LISTEN. Virgil did not try to eat him in his sleep yet so he might was well consider them best buddies, given that the cat had so many opportunities to slice him open and drink his blood until he was dead and the little hellspawn was satisfied but instead they were simply cuddling up to him all the time. Maybe they were just tolerating him but they were doing a pretty good job and pretending to care about his ass whenever he was not moving a lot or literally suffered greatly.

 Virgil turned to him, blinking ever so slowly, “mrow?”

 Yeah, that was all the evidence needed. Virgil loved him and he deserved it because he was a truly rich bitch who worked for his shit and did not try to look like plastic or be scary. Wow, rich people were so scary with their weird needs and urges and deeds... He would never get over plastic faces and that was his last word on this topic. This sudden realisation kinda hit him hard. Like, even in that slow, numbed and dull conscious, he saw the dots, observed the connections and got to a surprising conclusion of people being plastic and this being very weird.

Striking thoughts, clearly. Or maybe he was just being ..confused..Uh, what was he thinking about? Oh man.. It felt like he has had a major mental break through about whatnot - maybe, Kim Kardashian’s ass and how he can achieve his butt to be just as thicc.

 The man shook his head, letting all the confusing thoughts leave his head. He shook them off like the wetness of an umbrella after coming in from a rainy day. Outside, the world was pretty silent and not a single sound other than Virgil’s sing-song purrs lulling him into comfort could be heard. He was a chronic pain bitch, he made sure to never have too many sounds around which was why his hobbies were silent and boring, mostly.

 Still, Virgil loved him. They really did because they bonked their head against Remy’s hip bone, once more. There was no pain, only ore head scritches for the little kitty.

He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. It smelled of love, of warmth and hugs. How were these valid scents? Because he smelled them, honey, that is literally all it needed to qualify.

 “You are perfect, little kitty.”

 The two cuddled for a bit longer, Remy’s thoughts drifting slowly. His mind was on a ride on one of these slow merry-go-rounds. It was delirious, magical. Thoughts brushed over him like a breeze, one after the other passing him and tickling his imagination until one would stick with him for long enough. Instead of just passing by, it was more like bumping him and making him look at this thought content in particular. 

 Music.

For some reason, the idea of nice calming melody was the worst to ever happen to him but maybe a peppy song would get his spirits back up and work down the soreness from being stuck in a morning, still. The idea was so alluring, he felt his heart beat in excitement.

Virgil rose their head.

Remy cradled them close, picking them up and settling them on his chest. Arms were still wrapped around the little void.

 Instinctively, he got up, his body sweeping over the floor. His toes were numb to the feeling of the ground and his mind saw nothing but his task. As always, the warmth of the void was close to his chest and keeping him warm as the loyal little disaster they were. They curiously looked around as the flat passed by him. It was so natural for them to be close and go to any place together, Remy felt as if their auras would melt together.

 “Meow?”, the cat inquired curiously.

 There was such an innocence in their deeds. Apparently, they realised a bit of a change at the very least. They looked over his shoulder as they only ever did when they just arrived here for the first time. Or, well, would be new to any other area they went to together. Virgil knew where they were but something about Remy’s actions seemed to spark a sense of novelty.

The cat meowed again, a larger chunk of excitement swinging in their voice as Remy did not acknowledge the first attempt at communication they had proposed.

 “Meow!”

 The persistent meowing grabbed the determined man’s attention and Remy settled in his room, in front of a box, little charcoal monster in his lap.

 “What do you want, Queen? Is my body not soft enough for your royal ass?”, he teased softly as one of his hands settled on their head.

 Fingers entangled in the fur and gently scritched the areas around their ears.

Virgil leaned in. Their head rested in his hand and they simply relished in the soft touches and rewarded their obedient owner with a low purr.

 “Oh, what is that? Are you happy now? Are you happy, now that I give you more attention?”, Remy asked softly, his voice prickling in amusement yet being overall subtle rather than pushy, “You are just the best little kitty, V.”

 “Memrrroww!”

 Remy got lost in the little void looking up at him, neck craning to accommodate the new angle. They blinked ever so slowly. A snail would move faster from one end of the street to another than Virgil would when taking the time to blink at him. It was sort of amusing, really. Remy read it was some kind of display of affection. It was endearing for sure. The owner knew because Virgil’s snuggling up to his palm and purring out “meow”s was something to make his heart feel.. warm and.. and right in his chest.

 Things felt right.

 Then it occurred to him.

The box.

He had come here for a reason, not for nothing. There was a sense of determination lighting up his heart just as much as his love for the little bundle of black salt in his lap.

 His unoccupied hand carefully lifted the box’s lid and let it slide down until it arrived on the ground with a dull sound. At once, the vibrations in the air ceased, the soft sounds of purring abruptly stopping as if the internal cat programme to keep it running crashed and failed to recover. The kitten moved its head to follow the sudden intrusion of the sound. Their ears were up, sharp and indignant at the sheer audacity of a noise around them when they did not personally and officially approve of it to exist here at this time.

 However, at least the cat did not hiss or anything. They just looked for a bit while Remy reached into the box, intent guiding his blind hands.

Virgil stared into the box for another moment before their ears slowly retreated to their more relaxed state and the kitten allowed themself to nudge Remy’s hand again. With one hand in the box, he only had one more to actively stroke the thunder cloud in his lap. He gladly took the opportunity to gift the small beast with a few more scritches, his hand travelling to their shin to gently stroke and scratch it with as little force as possible in order for the feline monster to be appeased with his actions.

 They were.

Virgil let the weight of their head be carried by Remy’s patient hand while the other rummaged in the box the cat has already lost interest in.

 What. A. Fool.

 His free hand wrapped around the pole-like shape, his fingers gracing the cool material. Ah, finally. He pulled at it until he had retreated his hand enough to reveal the object to broad daylight. It shone a bit, almost as if to mimic the metal it wanted to be made of. He pulled up the slender object, the weight enough to tell him he had something in his hands. It was light but not enough to make him forget about the fact he was holding something. The object’s shape was clear and direct. A few simple touches told him he was right.

His eyes were not needed in this point. He could tell it was the desired object without being able to see through the muffled darkness of the little storage. It was dark, it was always dark where he lived and got to control the dimness of the light.

 “I got ya, bitch.”

 Virgil gave him a look for a moment but he had only eyes and hands for the object. By now, he was “inspecting” it with both hands.

The weight was low enough for his noodle arms to get it easily without any exhaustion. Even with barely any food in him, he was capable. Okay, sure, he worked out but he was not that strong. A sandwich was probably just as heavy as this object. Remy pulled it against his chest with a sense of satisfaction washing over him. A proud smile adorned his features and he glanced back down at the Queen of Salt in his lap. Something within him told him that the furry friend by his side would understand what he just did, would feel what he had in mind.

 For now, he was saved by the cat’s sweet and sour ignorance.

They were like a little child. Not knowing much about the world yet being so eager and amazed at every little novelty they deemed to be a true wonder and a wonder only, for it was revolutionising the world for them. Probably, it was.

They did not know it just yet, but there was a big big miracle approaching them. Virgil was about to get to know a very natural yet artificial wonder very soon, Remy would make sure of that. As their caretaker, it was sort of his job to teach them about the good and the bad of the world. This lesson would be the perfect middle ground of morals and societal standards.

Or maybe just his own opinions... Yeah, maybe rather that, considering he did not really give too many fucks about society as it was.

 Remy pocketed the middle-sized item (it reminded him a large amount of a torch) and got his little kitty cat into his arms before getting up. Together, they returned to the cozy living-room. They cozied up together and the owner got his phone out and ready.

 “Virgil, be a dear, entertain me”, he softly requested before making a little “click” sound with one of his hands.

The kitten whipped their head around, staring into the source of sound that happened to be their miserable excuse of a human servant. With a cautious “meow” coming from them, they leaned in, tail standing still and body tense. Even their ears stood very firm.

 Remy barely breathed when he clicked his tongue in thought.

 “Yo, Queen, calm ya kitty senses. It is a fun surprise. Promise, honey.”

 They eased a bit, sitting down onto their little void butt with their eyes intensely looking at the source of sound, despite it being gone for so long. Reassurance did not reach through their raven fur.

 “Be a good kitty, come on”, he suggested as he brushed a hand through their endlessly dark fur. The sassy child complied, carefully purring into his palm. As usual, they pushed their head closer. The trust was big between them. Virgil shut their eyes effectively and purred on, for longer, for louder.

 It was the time, it really was.

 Remy pulled his own arm closer to his chest, the microphone in his hand. It was active, activated and more than ready for this - just as he was.

If there was any pain or discomfort left within him, he was invincible and ignorant to it since the mere idea of his little plan becoming reality has him in the sweet ecstasy of hyperfocusing.

 Everything but his objective and the required tools became invisible to him.

 Virgil purred and suddenly, without warning for the little salty royal, the sound of their own purr echoed back to them in an odd, distorted manner. The object threw sound back at them because it was a microphone. Said microphone gave a high-pitched feedback in return, leaving the cat awestruck.

 Despite the soft cuddles and little encouraging nudges, they remained silent. Their doll-like, spheric orbs widened and their jaw locked at the weird noises. The cat’s whole posture was simply the shadow of a scare and the embodiment of confusion. If Remy did not know better, he would call them a boomer for the look on their face that could best be described as disgust.

 “You okay there, kitty? Do you hate me and life now? Do you hate your wife- ”

 They eyed the man for a moment, a hint of bewilderment in their intense eyes. Virgil seemed to smell the bullshit that was Remy calling them a boomer, maybe even a Karen. In reality, the cat was more than right! Someone get the manager of dummy thicc kitty-slaves!

 This was heresy! No, it was CARESY! How dare this poorly-made, human-encouraged machine of deafening sounds be alive and working around this cat and even throw back their royal noise with cheap, messed-up pitches? This was a crime!

The perfect balance of demanding and adorable was lost to the heartless machine.

 “Mrrrrrr”

 Virgil started vrooming in spite.

 They frankly produced a sound between a growl and a purr. Remy did not know what it was. He was sure not even Virgil knew what kind of sound exactly they were making and had it not been for the microphone, he would not have even heard it. However, with the useful device, the sound was amplified and came back in an echoing mess of sounds that layered over one another, wavering and stumbling over each other in their heightened pitch as they fought to reach one’s eardrums before the others.

 Distorted echoes and overlapping noises vibrated their way into his hazy mind. Virgil squinted at the atrocious object before the.

He giggled.

 “Virgil, listen to yourself, you silly void!”

 His suggestion fell to deaf ears. Virgil’s ears were, in fact, moving and in place to detect the danger of the intrusive sounds, the loud and sudden shit to bother them in their comfortable existence.

They wrapped their paws around the microphone, both “arms” slinging around it and holding it in place. The microphone was just a finger away from the kitten’s wet nose. The patting sounds was amplified. Rustling occurred, scratching Remy’s and Virgil’s glorious hearing senses.

 They stared again. Remy stared too, his eyes captivated by the sudden turn of events happening before him.

 “Hey, little storm cloud, what are you doing?”

 The cat continued, thrashing the microphone and letting out an actual growl at this point. Louder pats and could were vocalised by the poor, abused microphone.

The dummy duo paid with their hearing abilities. Holy fuck.

 “MeoooooooOOOW!”

 The sound grew louder at the end, forcefully so. It was a powerful establishment of dominance on Virgil’s part. How would the microphone react? Stay tuned for the nex- OKAY The microphone obviously echoed the whole thing back right on impact, leaving Virgil to retreat their head yet not their stubborn paws.

The cat had licked blood and it was not going to give up not. Not in front of their new enemy!

 All the while, Remy decided to be wise enough and retreat his hand from the slightly feral-ing cat.

It was a matter of time for Virgil to just ba-

Iiiiit was already happening~

 Virgil released one of their paws while keeping the other around to stabilise the foe. They committed themself to observing it and keeping it in place while their black hook got back at it, fully swinging against the cool microphone. Remy let go, merely catching up on the series of movement Virgil started carrying out after he had retreated his caressing hand. He had just stopped himself from giggling in amusement as the situation turned into a somewhat serious scene.

 “BADANG!”

 His grip on the microphone was no more - as much as the noisy foe Virgil had bashed the annoying bitch far, far away. The kitty paw had practically yeeted the whole apparatus away from them, the little microphone flying over the couch and landing on the other side of it while echoing the sounds of whooshing air breezing into its loudspeaking function. It crashed into the cushions and sound exploded on them, leaving Remy and Virgil in a groan of annoyance, maybe even a slight tone of pain.

 Hah, tone.

 The microphone’s last cries died down as s quickly as they had torn into the world. Virgil sagely blinked at the fallen enemy. In a great sense of victory, the cat hopped into his arms. They flung themself at his chest and bonked their heads together once more.

 “Meow!”

 They seemed to argue in their own benefit, demanding a reward for defeating the evil intruder and saving their dummy thicc idiot of an owner. Stupid human slaves. Foolish mortals. Bringing their own enemy into their home and even cuddling with it. Good thing the fierce kitten was around to knock out any meanie!

 Very well, they thought, they deserved a treat and Remy would have to hand over one of the good things. Virgil desired it.

 The kitten nudged their owner, settling down on them in satisfaction.

 “You go, Queen”, Remy cheered softly as he gathered the bundle of utter darkness and destruction in his arms.

Praise covered the kitten in warmth. They blinked slowly.

“I got you, you little sassy bitch.”

 Remy wobbled into the kitchen with his bitch buddy and got some treats for the kitten especially and also some for his own tired self. The whole endeavour had not been the most clever thing to do. His head was hurting from the scratchy noises. Still, it was worth the silly fun they had together. Do not judge the bitch flat, they were both hungry and tired! Also, Remy was dummy thicc on meds. Weekends were made to bitch slap fucking microphones and other noise-generating machines and beings across the room just to get a little crunchy CRONCH CRONCH treat in return.

 This was the local apartment laws because Remy and Virgil said so.

 The owner carefully got something from the kitty drawer he had put together by now. With a ceremonial movement, he flicked his wrist and presented his little chaos charcoal with the treat of catnip paradise.

 Virgil jumped into the sack of nice smells and good treats.

 “MRRW!”

 Remy found himself succumbing to giggles once more.

 “Yeah, meow to you, too, dark and stormy knight. You are just the cutest little kitten, honey.”

 He got himself a bit of cheese as he sat down to watch Virgil bite and rip into the bag of the good old cat nip.